Betrayal
by Suzie the Purple Dragon
Summary: The Holocaust has begun, and Germany is fighting to rid his country of the Jews. Little does he know, he loves one. GermanyxItaly
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey, people. It's Suzie the Purple Dragon, here. Since this is my first FanFiction, I decided to get a little help from my awesome friend, TheLittlestAuthor.**

**TheLittlestAuthor: You spelled 'prussia' wrong. Anyway, guys, I'd like to butt in and say that this was Suzie's idea, I just helped a little in getting it into words (and I know a little more about Auschwitz then she does). So, if you end up liking this story, I have other GerIta fanfics you might like... So come check my profile out, if you get the time.**

**A/N: Stop with your self-promotion. It's time for me to explain this story a little bit. Readers? This story is rated T. It is about Auschwitz concentration camp, during the time of the Nazi reign in WW2. There's blood, violence, and death. If that's not your cuppa tea, don't read it. So, anyway, please comment and enjoy!**

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Bombs exploded overhead. The Allied forces flew in the sky, dropping their incendiary cargo upon the nation below. Germany listened furiously as his country was blown to bits. He didn't want to be down in this bomb shelter, listening to the screams of his citizens when he could be helping them. And yet, this was where he needed to be, as he held the whimpering body of Italy beside him.  
"Germany!" his ally cried, his face buried in Ludwig's uniform. Germany rubbed the shorter man's shoulder, his face solemn and caring.

"It's okay, Italy, I'm right here," he replied. The shorter nation buried his face even deeper into Germany's side.

Ludwig wanted to kill those Allies! America, France, Britain... all the rest, too. They were scaring Italy out of his mind, so much so that he screamed every time the slightest noise he wasn't expecting was heard. The truth was, Germany loved Italy, and was willing to protect him from anything. Even if it meant sacrificing his own life, or even his country.

The raid ended as quickly as it had begun. Italy still clung to Germany as if his life depended on it.

"Ve... Don't leave me," Italy murmured, his usual joyous expression gone.

"I'm not going to leave you," Ludwig whispered, resting his head on Feliciano's.

"Ve, you promise?" Italy said with a little hope returning to his voice. He turned his two desperate, bronze eyes up to meet Germany's blue eyes.

"Promise," Germany smiled at his ally, running his hand through the man's hair. He listened closely for the sound of more bombs. There was only silence. "I think it's safe to go outside now."

"Are you sure? What if the bombing starts again?" Italy said, with a slight waver in his voice.

"It's okay, you'll be safe. I'll protect you." Germany said, standing up and stretching.  
He lent his hand to his ally, who was still sitting on the floor. When Italy tried to stand up, he fell forward. His legs were still numb. Ludwig caught the man as he plummeted to the floor.

"Ve, sorry Germany! My legs are all asleep from sitting so long." Italy blushed and stood up, brushing himself off. He looked over at Ludwig, who had the slightest trace of worry on his face.

"It's okay, Italy. It's getting late; we should head home." Germany sighed, not in the mood to give his ally a lecture on safety. The blonde nation just wanted to go outside and see how much land his enemies had obliterated.

The sky was a red hue and the sun was setting on the horizon when Germany left the bunker, Italy close on his heels. All was quiet outside. In the immediate vicinity, Germany did not see much damage, which came as a relief. However, Ludwig knew that although he and Feliciano were safe, the rest of his country was most likely leveled from the air raid.

"How can it be so calm right here and now, even though we are in the middle of such a terrible war?" Ludwig murmured under his breath so that Italy wouldn't hear.

"Ve~, all that being scared made me hungry! Can we have pasta for dinner? Please?" Italy whined, his ditzy attitude returning. Germany couldn't say no to the short brunette's request, especially because of the puppy eyed look he was receiving.

~xXx~

Ludwig cringed as he walked into his room, eyeing the piles of paperwork on his desk. The blonde knew he should be working on it, but instead he pulled back the curtain of his window and looked out with a smile. Red flags with white circles lined the streets. Within the white circles lay dark, black swastikas.

"The symbol of change," Germany nodded. He believed that Hitler was a good man, strong enough to create the perfect Germany. The economy had improved since Adolf came into power, not to mention the fighting spirit of Ludwig's fellow Germans. Ja, the swastika was a symbol of perfection, a symbol of a better future. And, if Hitler hadn't been good enough before, now he was perfect. Adolf Hitler had come up with the most brilliant plan that would make Germany a perfect place for everyone. He had created the 'Final Solution'.

The complete annihilation of all those... 'undesirables', those Jews who were destroying Germany and its chances at perfection. What Adolf wanted was to get rid of all of those impure, disgusting Jews and fill Germany with the perfect race, the Aryans. Ludwig agreed entirely with Hitler's idea. Send all the Jews away, kill them off one by one, or in groups if needed. Gas them, shoot them, starve them to death. The Jews were vermin, and they deserved it.

Feliciano walked into the room with a smile and handed Germany a steaming bowl of pasta. His eyes then followed Ludwig's gaze out the window.

"Isn't it beautiful, Italy?" Germany sighed as his ally walked into the room. "My country's really coming together, isn't it? And to think, only a few years ago money was so worthless children used it as toy blocks! And now, look! Parents smiling and children laughing. A perfect Germany."

Italy gazed out the window alongside his companion, but his face was less than joyous. He looked down towards the streets of his ally's city only to see the flags that meant death for the Jewish people. He saw the still-shattered windows of Jewish shops, and the silent windows of the homes that would never again have owners. He couldn't understand why Germany was so excited over the deaths of thousands. The Aryan seemed so happy now that hundreds of Jews were being shipped away every night, and Italy didn't like it at all. What did the Jews do in the first place, were they really the cause of problems in Germany?

"Italy?" Germany asked, looking over at his silent ally. The proud feeling Germany had moments before was replaced with worry for the shorter country. "What's wrong?"

"Ve, I'm okay..." Italy said in his usual ditzy way, hiding his worry for the Jews.

Ludwig placed a concerned hand on his friend's shoulder. He felt bad, trying to think of what he had done wrong. Italy looked up at him with two chocolate-colored eyes.

"I-I'm okay Germany!" Italy said, smiling towards the blonde. "I'm fine, see? Ve~, hurry up and eat, okay? It's getting late!"

With that, the short brunette stumbled out of the room, heading for his own bed. Ludwig nodded and turned back towards the spaghetti now sitting on the windowsill. He took one last pleased look towards his land before closing the curtains and settling down to his pasta and paperwork.

~xXx~

"No, Romano, it's okay- no. Yes. Hey, big brother, give me a chance to talk!"

Germany looked towards his door. He could hear Italy on the phone, desperately pleading with Romano over something, he just didn't know what. The man stood up quietly, gently pushing his empty pasta dish to the side. He walked down the hallway and opened the door as softly as possible, curious about the conversation between the Italy brothers.

"Romano, please- he won't do that, I swear. Si. Romano, I'll be safe, I've got Germany...! No, Romano, he won't! Yah, I know about the Holocaust...He said he'd protect me no matter what... No, he does-! What? Si. Ah, okay. Bye, Romano..."

"Italy?" Germany whispered into the room as Italy slammed the phone down with a sigh and a short sob.

"Ah, Germany-" the Italian gasped, surprised. So much so, in fact, that he fell backwards. His Aryan ally rushed to his aid, helping up the teary man in blue.

Ludwig pulled Italy to his feet, and with a gloved flourish he wiped away the boy's tears. "Italy," Germany began, staring into his friend's eyes, "What did Romano say to make you cry?"

"He said I should leave," Italy sniffed, his face solemn. "I don't want to leave, Germany. Ve~, don't make me leave."

Feliciano grabbed his blue-eyed companions wrist and held it like a lifeline, his eyes pleading for Germany to say something... anything.

"Why? Why would he want you to leave?"

"N-no reason," Italy said, forcing a smile onto his soft, pink face. "Ve~, Germany! It's late, time for bed. Good night!"

The short man twisted himself from Germany's grasp and began to settle himself into his own bed. Ludwig grabbed Italy's arm again, pulling the short man's body back towards his own. The German leaned down a bit, to a point where he was eye level with his brunette ally.

"Italy, what happened?" Germany asked once more, his voice becoming serious. He normally would not be so concerned, but rarely did the phone conversations between the Italian brothers get to a point where Italy was in tears.

"I can't tell you, I can't tell you!" Italy cried, tears pouring down his face. "You'll hate me!"

The Aryan raised an eyebrow. Italy had been quick to cry this time, and seeing the man cry was painful. Ludwig sighed, knowledgeable of his love for Italy. However, if it came out that he loved another man, Hitler would have him sent away for sure.

Germany pulled the Italian into a close embrace, a gesture which surprised the short man.

"Italy, it's okay... I couldn't hate you... Ich liebe dich, ja... ich liebe dich..." Germany whispered into the young man's ear, trying his best to keep his confession a secret from the world.

The Italian looked into his ally's sky-blue eyes, his eyes widening as he began to comprehend the German words his friend had just told him.

"Really?" he asked. As an answer to this question, Germany pulled his ally's face closer to his own, bringing their lips together. Italy's eyes were wide, staring in shock towards Germany's closed ones. Albeit the utter astonishment evident in the man's eyes, he did not break away. He felt the same way for the German... desperately and unwaveringly in love. Ludwig then slowly pulled away from Feliciano, confident. He stared into the blue-suited man's bronze eyes, trying to show his emotions through his actions.

"Italy, I'll protect you from anything, I won't let anyone hurt you," Ludwig said softly. "So please... tell me what's wrong."

Italy nodded slowly, and cautiously lifted his hand to his chest. He paused for a moment, a tear escaping his eye. He then pulled at a golden chain that was wrapped around his neck, its shiny pendant sliding out from under his shirt. Germany stared at the emblem, his expression changing from adoration to anger.

A Star of David. The symbol of a Jew.

Germany took the symbol into his hand, his face white and furious. He recognized it as the badge all Jews had been forced to wear before they began being sent away.

"You're Jewish," Germany growled, his expression dark. "this changes...everything."

With this final sentence, Germany ripped the golden chain from Italy's neck, and sent it clattering across the floor.

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**A/N: Sorry, that was a little OOC. Anyways, TLA and I are going to be writing the next chapter whenever we get the chance, so Review, Alert, and Favourite! Thanks~**

**TLA: By the way, Italy is supposed to be Jewish in this story, buuuut there's a lot he does that isn't Jewish. For example, Italy isn't big on eating Kosher. Soooo, just overlook that, okay? Sorry...**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey, everyone~! It's Suzie here!**

**A/N2: And me, TheLittlestAuthor. Whenever I talk, I have a 2 next to my A/N.**

**A/N: Yup. Because I am the more important one here. Anyways, let's get on with the story.**

**A/N2: Right, good idea. First and foremost, we'd like to thank all those who favourited, alerted, and reviewed this story. It means a lot to us.**

**A/N: We have no life other than FanFiction, so you guys are awesome~.**

**A/N2: Most importantly, we'd like to thank LittleMissDarkling for her ideas on how to improve this story. Thank you so much, you made our day (and this story) waaaay better! Any help ANY of you could provide would be just FABULOUS!**

**A/N: And now, the moment you've all been waiting for (as far as we know) CHAPTER TWO~!**

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Italy's eyes couldn't have gotten any bigger if they tried. His eyes were full of tears, all of them ready to fall at any moment. The man reached his hand towards the blonde's, but the Aryan pulled away, glaring at the Italian.

"You sick, rotten disgusting... And to think I had feelings for you! A Germany-ruining creature like you in my house!" Ludwig yelled.

"Germany, please stop! You're scaring me! Nothing changed, I just showed you my neckla-"

The taller man replied to this statement with a swift slap across Italy's face, one that sent the man stumbling to the ground. Germany felt like crying. He loved this Italian so much, and yet he was a Jew! He had gotten so close to Italy that it was dangerous. Imagine, at any point Italy could have taken over and stopped the Nazis, and tried to end Germany's quest for perfection! Ludwig was furious. He loved Italy, and yet he hated him at the same time.

"Stay here," Germany growled, leaving Italy on the floor of the room, his face still red from the slap, and tears streaming down his face. "I have to go make a call."

With that, Germany strode out of the room and slammed Italy's door behind him, locking it in the process. Italy jiggled the knob, but the door locked from the outside.

"Ve, please! Germany! Let me out! I'm so scared! Who are you calling?" Feliciano yelled, desperately punching the door. Ludwig continued down the hall with a straight face and picked up the hallway telephone.

"Hello, General, I have some important business to discuss with you." Germany said into the phone after calling up one of his Nazi officials. He then proceeded to announce the presence of a Jew in his home.

"No, sir, I didn't know. He hid it so well, sir, I- yes. Okay, I'll meet you outside in fifteen minutes."

Germany returned to Italy's room. The young man was curled up on the floor in tears. He was sobbing, as he knew who the man he loved had just called. He knew where he was going to be sent, and he remembered all the stories Germany had told him about those places... execution camps.

"Germany..." Feliciano sobbed, his tone desperate, "You said you would protect me, you told me no one would hurt me."

Ludwig lifted the brunette by the collar, his expression still the same as it was when he'd called the SS officers to come and get the Jewish man.

"I said I wouldn't let anyone hurt Italy," he replied with a stony face, "but you're not Italy. You're a Jew, and your only goal is to ruin my country."

Italy looked at the man, "No!" he cried, "I'm the same! I-I don't even practice a lot of Jewish things, only some of them- don't send me away, please!"

Germany said nothing as he dragged the Italian out of the room and down the stairs. The brunette pleaded with his captor, flailing his arms wildly. He begged desperately for his life. Ludwig unlocked his front door and pulled Italy outside to meet the Nazi soldiers and their truck full of Jews. He handed the man over to the two Nazis. They pulled him into the truck by his arms.

"Germany! Germany! Germany!" Italy cried out. There was a loud bang as the metal doors of the truck closed, Feliciano's face disappearing behind them.

"Where is this truckload headed?" Ludwig asked.

"Auschwitz." a Nazi replied, heading for the front seat. "I'd better hurry this up, I've got a deadline to meet."

"Right, good job, sir. I'm sorry I had to bring you out here." Germany responded.

"Hey, It's just one more Jew off the streets, ja?" the officer replied. He then ducked into the front seat and started the engine. Germany watched cold-faced as the truck drove off into the night. It was shortly thereafter that the blonde became aware of the rain falling in sheets around him. Numb and hurt, the man returned to his home.

Inside, the house was quiet and empty. Germany returned to his room, where a dirty pasta dish was still residing on the table. He pushed it off, and it smashed to the ground, millions of pieces of glass flying every which way.

"Dirty Jews," Ludwig murmured . "At least now I can sleep well knowing another one is off to his death."

~xXx~

Ludwig opened his eyes slowly, staring blankly into the light of the sun. He was still groggy, but he knew he had to get up. He rolled over in his bed, and, for a moment, panicked when Italy wasn't next to him, as he always was. He then quickly remembered the previous night. With a huff, the German moved to his dresser, where he silently put on his clothes.

Outside, the sun glinted off water droplets from last night's rain storm. The German walked down the street casually, trying to push the incident from last night from his mind. The man stared towards the clouds with a grim face. He slowly proceeded through the streets of his country before coming across the his building of work. He looked up at the building, the sun blinding his eyes. With a sigh he headed through the doors into the cool hallway. He entered the stairwell, and proceeded up it with a groan. Upon reaching floor, he made a swift turn to the right and into the third door on the left. His boss was sitting in the meeting room with a scowl on his face.

"You're late," he stated blatantly.

"I'm sorry, sir. But, last night was a long one." Germany replied quietly.

"I've heard about that," his boss nodded "you're lucky a Jew on your property is grounds for execution. Thank god you got rid of that thing before we found out."

"Yes, sir." Ludwig agreed, "I got rid of it as soon as I found out." Germany's voice wavered a bit, a small pang of guilt protruding in his chest, only to be overcome with his hatred for the Jewish race. "Sir, I don't mean to be rude, but is there a reason I had to come so early today?"

"Ah, yes, Ludwig, there is, thank you for reminding me. I've heard from the higher up SS officers that you are doing quite well with the extermination process in Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. Due to your high ability and high regard as one of the best officers in the camps, we were wondering if it would be in your interest to be relocated to a different camp, one that needs you more. It's going to be slightly farther away from home than Bergen-Belsen, as the new location is in Poland."

"I would be honored, sir. What is the name of the camp, may I ask?" Germany smiled.

"I'm surprised you don't know of it, as it is one of our biggest and most productive camps. The name of this glorious factory is Auschwitz."

The German's blood ran cold.

Auschwitz was where Italy was.

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**A/N: Sorry we took so long to update, school work has been piling up lately.**

**A/N 2: Don't lie to them, Suzie. You know we were just freaking out over the new FMA movie.**

**A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews. And thank the slave driver telling me how to put commas properly.**

**A/N 2: Oi! You didn't even write it you lying deceiving little- WHERE ARE THE COMMAS? HEY!**

**A/N: Thank you~ Until next chapter, Holy Roman Empire OUT!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for all of the reviews. Before we start though, we need to address a serious matter.**

**A/N 2: As many of you know, Italy hair curl is his *coughs* erogenous zone. Now, the problem with that is (from what we know) inmates in Auschwitz have their hair cut off before entering the camp. We had to... in a sense... "ignore" what his curl was, because we didn't know how to describe THAT part being cut off. *coughs again***

**A/N: That being said, we can start the story.**

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Italy took in his surroundings, hundreds and hundreds of people filed out of the train cars behind him, all of them shaking in the anticipation of horrors they would soon face. Mothers with little babies, grandparents clutching their grandchildren close to their sides, and toddlers following their older siblings. Italy was beyond terrified, so scared to cry let alone speak. Before him, there were three long lines of people, both of which spanning off into different directions. A Nazi shoved Italy into the biggest line of the three. The Italian gasped in surprise before regaining his balance and following in the line of the thousands before him. He held his arms close to his chest, not only from fear and cold, but also from the emotional pain in his chest. At the very front of the line the Italian could make out the figure of an SS officer. The man was whistling a cheery tune at the top of his lungs. He held his pointer finger outstretched, flicking it either way he wanted the person before him to go. The line moved slowly, but eventually, Italy neared the front of the line. With the flick of the Nazi's finger, the Italian watched as an old lady before him was pointed to the right line. Another officer took the older woman toward the line.

"You are going to take a shower." The Nazi stated. Little did the woman know, she was being sent to her death.

It came to be Italy's turn. The officer before him pointed toward the left line. Italy was pushed forcefully to the left line. He cried out as he lost his balance and hit the ground with a thud. The officer yanked him back up, and shoved him toward the line in front of him. The line continued on, but this line was not as long as the first. All of the Jews slowly filed into a large building. Italy watched in horror as the guards before him demanded that his clothes be removed. The brunette cried out in protest, but to no avail. The guards ignored his pleas and his clothes were forcefully taken from him. Now clothesless, tired, and shivering from the cold Italy continued in the line, for the real terror had not yet begun.

Just two last step before he be forced into the camp. A group of Nazi women stood before him, hastily shaving the men's hair as they passed through the room. Italy nervously ran a hand through his hair before he was sat upon a stool, where a Nazi woman began to cut it. Italy sat uncomfortably in full view of the other men. He watched as with teary eyes as his soft brunette locks fell to the ground before him.  
Why was he crying about his? The man he loved the most betrayed him, he was about to be sent into a place that he would surely die, and he was crying over a hair cut? He stepped down from the stool as the Nazi woman cut off the last strand; his signature hair curl. With that he was forced into the final room, where he was given a pair of striped pajamas and a matching cloth cap. He then moved towards a table, where a man told him to hold out his arm, Italy did as he was told. The man took a sharp writing implement and etched a number deep into Italy's skin. Feli winced in pain for a moment, before the man took the pen away.

"There you go. Welcome to Auschwitz." the man grinned evilly before pointing Italy to the exit of the building.

~xXx~

Ludwig stepped out of the truck, his black boots hitting the ground with a small burst of dust. He looked around with a dark expression, making his way to what was to be his room during the course of his involvement in the camp. The German lay his luggage on the bed, and adjusted his hat in the mirror. It was getting late. He turned to the clock, realizing that it was 12:30 in the morning. He wasn't tired, but he did feel very anxious. There were weird feelings stirring in the pit of his stomach, he just couldn't place his finger on what they were. He fell asleep quickly that night, though he tossed and turned to no end. That night his sleep was dreamless.

~xXx~

Italy staggered down the dirt-covered pathways of his prison, shivering and crying softly. He wanted Germany to come back and to be normal again, he wanted to go back to the way things once were. But now he was desperately making his way toward his bed, the one in the building he shared with at least fifty other people. He got there, and with a small squeak realized he had stepped on something cold and somewhat squishy on the floor. He looked down to his feet and followed the long white shape until he was staring into the glassy, dead eyes of a fellow prisoner. The boy staggered backwards with a shriek, then tripped on one of the cots behind him, falling into his own and banging his head upon it on his way in. Feliciano clutched his skull as he sobbed, a small bump forming on his head under the striped cap he wore. However, he wasn't crying in pain. No, he would have to deal with a lot more than a bump on the head, according to what Ludwig said. He was crying because of the body. The man who had died. He would be thrown into a pile along with a hundred of other dead people, women, children, men, and what would happen to his family? Or were they even still alive? Italy's squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to fall asleep.

Italy woke up in a daze, not having ever actually fallen asleep, more or less just "dozing". He sat up, realizing the people around him were desperately scrambling out of bed. The Italian followed suit, realizing that, to his horror, an SS officer was approaching.

The German officer walked into the room, a gun hitched to his belt. He scanned the room with an evil glare, then put on a fake smile to show how "friendly" he really was. Italy looked down, attempting to swallow his fear. For some reason, he felt he was going to die. He stared intently at the ground. If he made eye contact with that Nazi, who know what could happen?

"I'm new here," the officer began, taking his gun from its holster, "and I've been to get help from you guys, does that sound alright?"

The entire group nodded, minus one. A boy, not much older than fourteen, was to scared to move. He clenched his fists so hard they started to bleed.

"Sir?" the SS officer said sarcastically, looking into the boy's eyes. "When I ask you a question, you answer, Ja?"

The boy didn't move, he just stared pathetically at the German's face. He couldn't move his mouth, all he did was let out a terrified squeak.

"Come here, boy," the blue-eyed German sighed. He pulled the boy out of the line that had formed on either side of him. He looked towards both sides of the line, and pointed the boy so he was perpendicular to the rest of the group. No one knew what was going to happen until it was over. There was a small click, and then a loud bang that made Italy and the others flinch. The boy's body crumpled to the floor, blood pooling from the wound in his skull. The officer blew on the smoking end of the gun, stating boredly, "We answer questions when our superiors ask them, ja mein friends?"

With this, the entire group of Jews nodded frantically. Italy couldn't tear his eyes from the little boy, his face drenched in his own crimson blood.

There was another gunshot. Feliciano covered his mouth in shock, his eyes growing small. That shot had really surprised him, for he had been splattered with blood. A man to hit left crumpled to the floor, his head bleeding like the other boy's. Italy's striped shirt was now dotted with dark red droplets, and his face one of terror. His breath caught in his throat as he heard a click above him, and something cold press onto his head.

A gun. Italy gulped, and his stomach fell. This had to be it.

He was going to die.

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**A/N: Woo, well that was INTENSE.**

**A/N 2: (finishes typing) way to ruin the mood...**

**A/N: Anyways, please R + R~!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you for all of the support everybody. You guys are awesome.**  
**A/N 2: We're so glad you enjoy our story so much, we're actually kind of surprised at how much you guys like it!**  
**A/N: Yeah, so we won't keep you waiting! Here's the next chapter!**

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Germany looked down the barrel of his gun with a stone-cold look. Two people lay beside him, their dead eyes staring into nothingness. He had just killed them both, a young boy and a middle-aged man. Now he had moved along to this next person, as he felt the man had been ignoring him. In other words, he wished to kill because he wished to kill. There was a short moment of silence before Ludwig braced his hands on the trigger. Might as well kill three on his first day, right?

To set higher standards for the others, he mused. He was about to shoot when the mumbling below him made in freeze.

"Please... don't shoot me," the voice muttered, "I... I'm too young to die! And... what if I don't die... but lie there in misery in a pool of my own blood...? Please! I'll do anything! Well, within reason, I don't want to die!"

As the man began to sob, his head still low to the ground, Ludwig lowered the gun. He nearly dropped it in shock, in fact. He had almost shot Italy... his ally. A million thoughts went through his head at once. Italy was a Jew, right? Jews should be killed... right? So, Italy should be killed... ja? Germany shook his head. The thought that he almost put a bullet into the head of the man he loved- no, once loved- sent a chill through his spine. Feliciano didn't seem to notice that his "hero" was standing before him in an SS officer uniform, gun in hand. The German muttered the word 'pathetic' under his breath before leaving as fast as possible, kicking the bodies of his two other victims out of his way.

~xXx~

Time went on. The Italian didn't know how much, he just knew that it was a lot. He had decided to quit asking for food... it was pointless. He'd made a few 'friends' at the camp, but none lasted longer than a few weeks. He had been thin upon his arrival to Auschwitz, as he was never strongly built like Germany. He hadn't noticed at first, but he was getting unbearably thin. He could count every rib in his chest, not to mention he no longer had cheeks. He was just a lonely shell, to scared to make a single noise, not even a small 'Veh'. His world was crashing down. One morning he had woken up aware of a terrible pain in his stomach, one that was so bad he could barely get up. His body had shaken so hard he thought he may have been having a seizure.

"I want..." he sniffled, "I want Germany back. Not scary Germany. Nice Germany... the one who lets me sleep in his bed sometimes and lets me cook for him and lets me hide behind his back and protects me..."

He hadn't seen Ludwig at all. When he had been on the other end of that man's gun, he had been to scared to look up or recognize the man's voice. He dreamed every night that he could be back home, which in a way made the world more bearable, at least until recently when he stopped having dreams entirely.

Ludwig had been careful to avoid the Italian since that day as well. Since that day, he had been no where near the Italians compound, except... on occasion. Though he tried to hate Feliciano with all his soul, Germany had to check every week to ensure that the Italian was still there... alive. And that was why today he made the mistake of walking through the area Italy happened to be standing, and the Italian noticed.

He's come to save me! Italy thought, limping towards his friend with and starving, painful smile.

"Germany?" he called out. "Germany!" There was a moment before Ludwig realized he was being called by a prisoner, but that moment was one that the man rued. His once-happy Italian friend was nothing more than bones, now. His face was dirty and pale, pieces of fuzzy brown hair beginning to poke through his cap. The newly falling rain began to stain his otherwise mud-covered face.

"Germany, please," the man choked. "Help me... food, water, anything. Germany, I missed you! But... it's okay because we can be friends again now, r-right? Please don't leave me again... Help me, I'm starving, I'm going to die."

The Italian clutched onto Ludwig's arm as he had long ago, before this whole event. Like he had in that bomb shelter. Germany was tempted to hug his ally, but his Nazi side got the best of him. He jerked his arm upwards, pulling it out of the Italian's grasp. The movement also hit Feliciano in the jaw, making him fall to his knees in pain. Germany got out his gun and pointed it at Italy.  
"I'm warning you, I shouldn't let you get away with disrespect like that again," the German glared.

"You...?" Italy stared back, realization dominate in his eyes.

"Don't disrespect me again, or so help me you will have a bullet in your head, and I will not be upset that I put it there."

"Germany-"

"I don't know you, stop talking to me with such familiarity," Ludwig scoffed, turning and walking away, leaving Italy on his knees in the rain, sobbing.

"I.. I'm sorry, Germany. I'm sorry you don't like me because I'm not like you," he whimpered, his voice too small for his ally to hear. "But... I can't hate you. You scare me... and I don't know what to think of you... and... I don't know if I can trust you but... I can't hate you. Isn't that funny?"

He began to sob hysterically and yelled after the blonde, "Isn't that funny?"

With that, the Italian fell to the muddy ground, sobbing and repeating those words over and over again.

"We can't be together because people tell us we can't... they made you hate me..." he whispered. "Isn't... that... funny?"

* * *

**A/N 2: Please review, favourite, and if you have the time visit my profile TheLittlestAuthor.**  
**A/N: STOP PROMOTING YOURSELF!**  
**A/N 2: *le wink***


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello again! Again, thank you for the reviews, we appreciate it. Like a TON.**  
**A/N2: Really. We hope you will continue to enjoy our story.**  
**A/N: Without further interruption, here is the story!**

* * *

The next morning, the blond woke up with a pounding headache. He hadn't slept that night. How could he after the person he used to love looked up to him with such longing eyes? But, he was just another Jew. What was the point of losing sleep for a Jew, a disgusting piece of vermin who was just troubling his country? With that, Ludwig left his bedroom straightening his cap. Ja, there was no point thinking about him any more.

Germany walked outside stifling a yawn, trying to hide his sleepless night from the other officers. It didn't take long for one of the younger men to find him, delivering a message.

"Mr. Ludwig?" he called, racing up to the taller blonde. "Mr. Ludwig, you've been requested to aid in a death march? There's been an outbreak of tuberculosis in the southern part of the camp, so the infected need to be terminated... along with those who could be contaminated. So, you've been called to lead the pack through the woods and just keep going until they're all dead. Actually, sir, it shouldn't even take that long. That entire section is a pile of twigs, and with that new disease, they won't last an hour in the hot sun, sir. I wouldn't worry; it won't take long."

Germany nodded, agreeing to help in the march. It wasn't long before he was taken into a van and driven to the area at which the march would begin. He stepped out of this van and waited for a moment. It wasn't long after that that his fellow officers pulled the group of Jews to be killed up the path. The group was large, with at least thirty people staggering after their leaders. All of them had arms so thin their bones could be seen popping out, and their cheeks were sunken. Scanning the crowd, Ludwig's brow furrowed.

Italy's handcuffs clanked on his wrists. His striped clothing caked with mud, and he was dirty as could be. His brunette hair was slowly growing back in tufts, but he didn't know how long it would be until it came back all the way- or if it even would. The Italian had never felt so lost for hope before, never so sure he wanted to die. This war had taken everything from him. His freedom, his joy, the only person he truly loved... Italy hated himself. It couldn't be Ludwig's fault that he was terrible. He had shamed the German and made him sad. Before the blonde had discovered Italy's faith, everything had been happy. Feliciano had trusted Ludwig entirely, but look what happened due to that respect? If only he had listened to Romano. Big brothers always know best. But sometimes even Romano could be cruel and untrustworthy. There was no one left. No one cared about Italy. Though he hated life, he had to keep living. Maybe then he could return to Romano, and find happiness again... but it wouldn't be the same without Germany.

There was a strong and sudden yank on the chains. Italy looked ahead of him. He was walking across a plain, long stretch of land. Others were in front of him, while some were in back. Suddenly, there was a grunt, and Italy felt himself yanked forward. Someone had fallen over. Then, Feliciano heard a sound he knew all too well. A gunshot. The fallen women began to bleed, the bullet through her back. She was dead. Instead of detaching her from the group of slaving Jews, the guards just left her there, dangling.  
Ludwig reloaded his gun. He had been ordered to shoot down anyone who tripped and fell, as they were obviously worthless, and would slow the group. As a child fell down, Germany sighed and let another bullet rip across the sky.

The walk was long. Slowly, one by one, the Jews were killed. After shooting another woman, Germany took a look at who was left. It was then that he noticed the man in the center of the group. Italy. His face was covered in tears, his shoulders heaving up and down as he walked. He was terrified. The last ten other living people surrounded him, their own tears falling. Ludwig turned away. He couldn't see his once-ally crying like that. Sure the man had cried before, but these tears were different. The only way to describe them was 'real.' He wasn't just sad or upset, but he was... empty. He knew what was going to happen to him, and now he had been given time to contemplate it. He was just at a loss for what to do.

The man and woman on either side of the Italian fell to the ground. Feli cringed as he heard the two bullets escape the Germans' guns and enter the flesh of the fallen. He turned his head upward and sobbed.

"Why?" he gasped out, "What did we do? What have we done?"

Italy was now, with the help of the eight others who were still alive, pulling the bodies of the others who had been part of his same fate.

Feliciano turned his head, staring Germany in the eyes. He hadn't noticed the man during the whole trip, and only now had looked towards him. Ludwig met the other man's gaze. Italy's eyes were empty compared to how full of life they used to be. The Italian stared at his old ally for a moment. Germany expected him to cry out to the him, to plead, to ask for help. However, the brunette did no such thing. Instead, he just turned away. He no longer expected anything from the German who he used to rely on so much.

Italy looked up toward the sky. He thought it was strange that, even though the world below was so awful, the sky looked the same as it had during happy times. How is that possible?

Three more gunshots rang out. Italy flinched and was pulled down by the weight of the chains. He cried out in surprise, turning around. The faces of five other horrified people surrounded him. A little girl at the back cried out to her mother, who was being dragged to the ground. The girl leaned down, trying to help her mom. There was another loud bang, and the girl crumpled to the ground. Again the weight shifted. Italy grunted, pulling on his handcuffs as they dug into his wrists. He pushed forward, his weak arms tensing under the strain. There were two more gunshots behind him. Everyone was falling so quickly now. The Italian turned and met the eyes of a woman behind him. She held the hand of a boy, her son. Her eyes closed, and she too fell forward, taking the boy with her. Two more gunshots. Only Italy and a young man, only in his twenties, were left. The man spoke from behind him.

"I'm sorry, mister, I'm going to have to leave the load to you. I can't hold on. My momma and papa are gone. There's no reason for me to keep goin'. I'm sorry," With that, the man fell over and was shot, leaving Italy alone, bodies surrounding him. The guards to his left laughed, telling him to keep walking until he couldn't walk any more. On his right, Germany just stared in awe.

"After all this," he muttered under his breath, "he can still hold his head up and keep walking. Don't stop. I... can't shoot you. Keep walking. Don't stop, please."

Feliciano took a few more steps before turning towards Ludwig once more.

"G-Germany," he muttered, as he dropped to his knees. There was a moment of silence, and the world seemed to slow down. The German saw his former ally fall to the ground, a small cloud of dust floating from around him.

"I.. Italy?" he gasped into the silence. "ITALY!"

The two other guards looked at him quizzically, but he didn't care. He dashed out to where his friend lay, using the small key in his pocket to detach the man from his handcuffs.

"Italy? Italy! Come on, get up, breath! Mein gott... what have I done?"

"Ludwig, get up, stop touching that thing! Are you insane?" one of the guards protested. Germany glared at his colleague, taking Italy into his arms. He dashed off into the forest, the guards calling after him.

Tripping and falling as he ran, Germany sped away, cradling the Italian against his chest. He was done with the death. Why had it taken him so long to realize this? And now it might be too late for his ally.

"Please, Italy," he whispered. "Stay with me for just a little longer. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

* * *

**A/N: Le CLIFFHANGER!**  
**A/N 2: Hehe. As always, please favourite and review!**  
**A/N: I have no idea what to say. I listened to that one Hetaoni song while working on this with my friend here. And I feel sad. SAD I TELL YOU. SAD.**  
**A/N 2: You mean while READING what I wrote, because I'm evil and won't let you type?**  
**A/N: Exactly. True Story, Bro.**  
**A/N 2: TSB. Hey, we made a new acronym! GO USE IT, WORLD!**  
**A/N: We dare you.**  
**A/N 2: KESESESESESESESESE.**  
**A/N: HONHONHONHONHONHON.**  
**A/N 2: ANYWAY, Please review! And favorite! AND SUCH.**  
**A/N: Thank you for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello, again!**  
**A/N 2: Thank you for all of the positive feedback about the last chapter!**  
**A/N: It means a lot to us.**  
**A/N 2: Sorry for our lateness in getting this out. Seriously.**  
**A/N: I know, we are such bad people.**  
**A/N 2: Well, let's just start the story!**

* * *

Germany raced up to Romano's house, clutching Italy in his arms. He didn't know how long it had been since he'd begun, just that it had been a long time. He couldn't stop. He knew he was out running the guards, but he knew his ally didn't have much time left. Luckily, in all the commotion, the Italian had only been shot in the arm, which wasn't quite fatal. The man was bleeding, his striped sleeves turning a crimson red color as they soaked in the fluid.

"Romano," Germany called upon reaching the southern Italian's house. "Romano, help..."

It wasn't long before Feliciano's brother stepped out onto the porch, annoyed at whatever noise was bothering him. He turned to Germany, and it didn't take long for him to notice his brother.

"V-Veneziano!" he cried, racing towards Ludwig and tearing the weak Italian from his arms. "Italy? Is... that blood? Germany," he turned to the Aryan, his face dark, "what the hell have you done to my brother?"

"I'm sorry," the blond replied.

"Sorry? You really think you can just say sorry and everything is going to be okay? Veneziano... he looks like he hasn't eaten in days... weeks! Look at him! He's dirty and bleeding... You didn't... You couldn't have! You sent my brother to one of those camps? You... he trusted you, bastard!" Romano yelled, holding his brother close. Germany reached forward to touch Feliciano, but his brother pulled him away with an angry yelp.

"Are you Jewish?" Germany muttered. "You shouldn't stay here for long."

Romano waited a moment. "No. Spain forced me to convert. What does it matter? My brother's hurt. The last time I called him, I told him not to trust you. I told him he should leave you behind, that he might be found. I'm taking him. I'm going to try to heal him from everything you've done. Don't expect me to succeed. You've scarred him pretty damn bad."

Ludwig watched as Romano took Italy inside his house. He was left on the porch, alone. Turning around, he decided to head back home. He didn't know what would happen now. He had just saved a jew. The rest of his Nazi "friends" would definitely have to do something about him. Germany didn't know what to do. Quite honestly, after all he had done to his Italian friend, he didn't deserve to live anymore, in his own opinion.

His house was dark when he found it. He switched on the light and continued into his household. It was still in the same messy condition that he had left it in. The Aryan was tired, but he didn't feel like sleeping.

"I might as well try to rest, it's been a long… day," he muttered, climbing the stairs to his room. As he walked through the hallway, his eyes fell to Italy's room, or the one that had been Feli's before Germany had betrayed him. Twisting the knob, the blonde walked into the room.

The smell of pasta and Italian food still wafted in the place. The window was open, and cold air was seeping in. The bed was a mess, and the rug on the floor was twisted at all different angles, still distorted from the struggle all that time ago. Remembering it, he turned away and headed out the door, pulling it closed behind him. As he tugged at the door, there was a loud scratching sound, as if something were caught underneath it. Upon investigation, Ludwig pulled a golden chain out from under the door, followed by a pendant with six points. He realized what it was immediately and cringed at the sight. Italy's Jewish necklace. Germany closed his hands around the necklace and looked down. He placed the jewelry into his pocket, the one closest to his heart.

"Romano will keep Italy safe," he sighed. Suddenly, there was a noise outside. Germany turned to his door and realized he could hear the sound of his door slamming open, and feet thumping up his stairwell. Turning around, he heard them outside the door. He stood up, confused, as policemen poured into the rooms of his house.

"Ludwig," the first officer panted upon finding him, "You, sir, are under arrest for leaving your post in an official situation, and attempting to help a Jew. How do you plead?"

A smirk crossed the German's face. He was tired of all this, anyways. Tired of living and hurting people he loved. He knew the penalty for his crime.

"Guilty," he sighed, raising his hands to the air.

The officers led him to the car, their faces disgusted. How could anyone be as despicable as him, helping a Jew?

~xXx~

Germany sat in his cell. It had to have been at least a week since the Gastapo had brought him here. The German had his head against the wall. Stale bread and an old wurst lay on the ground before him, though he didn't feel like eating. A guard came to the prison cell door and opened it.

"Your punishment has been decided," the man said. Germany raised his head. "Your execution is to take place in three days."

The Aryan nodded. "I thought so."

* * *

**A/N: Well, that was interesting.**  
**A/N 2: I'll say!**  
**A/N: What will happen next? Will Italy survive his injuries? Will Germany be executed?**  
**A/N 2: The world may NEVER know...**  
**A/N: Stay tuned for more!**  
**A/N 2: Dude... that was messed up.**  
**A/N: Yeah... ANYWAYS, Reviews are loved!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello, again!  
A/N 2: How are you all?  
A/N: ...It's almost summer... must carry on... can write more once summer begins...  
A/N 2: Don't worry readers; WE WILL PREVAIL!**

* * *

Ludwig groaned and let his head fall back against the wall of his cell. He didn't know what he was making him so upset about death. He knew Italy would never trust him again, along with the rest of his country. He turned to the doorway. His three days were up. He knew what would happen. Any moment now, a guard would enter his room and take him to the execution grounds, were he would be hung before an audience of the Nazis he had betrayed.

And here he was now. The man who would take him to his death. The soldier pulled open the door and tugged Ludwig off the ground. The blonde didn't struggle. In the back of his head, however, Germany thought of something. He wondered silently how Italy was. Before he died, he wanted to know that his ally was safe. The blonde turned his blue-eyed gaze up to the man who had him by the arm, opening his mouth to form the question.

"No," the man grumbled before Ludwig had even begun speaking. "You're going to ask what every prisoner asks, 'can I have a phone call?'. No, you can't. Scum like you don't deserve telling your family where you're headed, heaven or hell."

"Not even a loved one?" Ludwig muttered, his face dim.

"I think I've already answered that. Now, hurry up, we're going to be late, and you don't want that, do you?"

Germany almost had to laugh. The guard was barely his height, let alone strength, and yet he felt it smart to make comments such as these? Shrugging, the German followed the man.

"Besides, how can someone as terrible as you have a 'loved one'? You've betrayed your fellow men, your entire country! Anybody who fell in love with such a horrible person such as yourself must have been the biggest dummkopf on the planet," the guard continued, his face cracking into a smile. Germany stopped and ripped his arm from the soldiers. The two men stared at each other for a minute, Ludwig's face hardening into a glare.

"It's true; I betrayed my men and country's beliefs for the one I loved. I hope I can still call him someone who loves me, but the way I treated him makes that such a low possibility... As for an idiot... you, sir, have gone too far," the blonde growled, his head low.

"Oh, so you're homosexual, too? How many laws do you intend to break?" the officer replied, catching on and laughing again.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that falling in love was against the law," the Aryan retorted. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to say my last goodbyes to him. Where's the phone?"

"Come on. You're to be executed in an hour. Preparations are already in progress."

"Where's the phone?"

"You idiot, you really think you can tell me what to do? I'll make sure they make your death as slow and painful as possible."

Germany sighed and turned around, making a dash down the hall. He was faster than that guard, and he knew it. The man tried to stop his prisoner, but to no avail. Germany dashed through the halls of the prison, and into the vast chamber where the victims were kept. They called out to him, but he dashed by. He heard several officers chasing him, but he kept running.

Phone. He had to find a phone.

Germany kept running. He hadn't run this fast since... he couldn't even remember. This was important. Germany rounded a corner, he could see a phone down the hall, luckily, he could hear that the guards had fallen farther back. The man picked up his pace and lunged for the mechanism. He struggled to remember Romano's number under the pressure, but quickly pressed the buttons. There was a pause, and then noise on the other end. Germany furrowed his brow in worry. He could hear the guards approaching.

"What?" an angry voice growled from the other end of the phone. It was Romano.

"Romano? How's Italy? He's better, ja?" Ludwig frantically said into the receiver. The guards came around the corner, yelling at him furiously.

"Veneziano..." Romano replied, his voice distorted. This was probably due the bad connection.

Then, Romano said something that made the Aryan's heart stop.

"Italy's dead. He died last night. Don't call back. Ever."

The world lost all sound. The only thing Germany was aware of was the guards pulling him to the ground and cuffing him, and his own angry yells at the phone, which was now dangling from the desk.

"No! Romano, it's not true, you're lying! You dummkopf! Don't lie about these kinds of things!"

Ludwig twisted around with all of his might, trying to tear himself from the soldiers' strong arms. Eventually, he just gave up.

It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. Italy. Dead. The words didn't go together. The worst part was that Germany knew it was his own fault. If he hadn't sent Feliciano away, if he had just let Italy be Jewish... Then Italy.. maybe Italy would still be alive.

Standing up, Ludwig followed the men to the execution grounds. They tugged at his arms as if he would try to escape again and run away from his inevitable death. The truth was, Germany couldn't wait to get there. Italy was gone. His last joy in the world had vanished. There was no point in it anymore.

"Can we hurry this up?" the German sighed.

"Why, eager to get your body hung in the sky for all to see?" the men around him sneered.

Ludwig didn't reply.

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**A/N: *Sobbing* Why would you write that? SO SHORT... NO! You killed him off!**  
**A/N2: *grins* Heh heh... did I? Don't worry; I have something up my sleeve. Stay tuned, readers, stay tuned. Favorite, review, and alert. We're not done yet...**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Heyyy~! Wassup peoples? It's almost summer time~!**  
**A/N2: * hums High School Musical ***  
**A/N: *Slaps TheLittlestAuthor* SHUDDUP AND WRITE, SLAVE.**  
**A/N 2: …...As you wish...**

* * *

Romano placed the phone back on its stand with a satisfied sigh. He then turned to face the man standing behind him.

"There, that potato bastard's gone. He won't be able to come after you," he said to this man. It had been Romano's own idea to tell Germany of Italy's demise, should he ever call.

"Thank you," the other Italian said quietly. South Italy furrowed his brow in concern. Usually he didn't worry about his brother, but lately the brunette had been incredibly quiet, not to mention the life in his eyes was gone. Secretly, the older Italian felt this was all his own fault. If he had been able to convince his brother not to live with Germany, none of this would have happened. Another thing Romano was secretly thinking about was the sounds he had heard on the other end of the phone before he had hung up. The sound of Germany's desperate yells and guards screaming. He heard these guards call Germany a prisoner, and call out to him that he was to be killed soon. Romano considered telling this to his brother, but decided against it. If he told Feliciano about the execution of Ludwig, he was worried the Jew might not be able to handle it with his frail, weak condition.

"Romano, I'm going into hiding," Italy said suddenly. "I took some food from the kitchen and a few changes of clothes. I know the war is coming to an end, so I won't be gone long. I'm going to go to this old abandoned barn in the woods a few miles from here. Its still got grain and flour and such, so I should be fine food wise-"

"No," Lovino said sternly, his voice low. "You're too weak, you won't be able to survive, you…" for some reason, Romano couldn't bring himself to call his frail and starving brother a 'bastard'. Not even he could stoop so low. Besides, the older Italian knew that his brother was probably right. He really should go into hiding, at least until the war's end. That seemed like it would be so far away. After all, it was only 1943. Could the war really be so short? Feliciano was right, he needed to hide.

"Please, Romano, it's for the best-" Italy tried again. The pain and suffering he had been through these past weeks had changed him. He was so mature.

"You're right," the older nodded, reconsidering his past thoughts. "When you leave I'll make a fake grave out back to keep people from wondering where the hell you are. When are you going to leave?"

"Tonight, as soon as it gets dark. Is that okay?"

"Honestly, Veneziano, I think you should leave sooner." There was a moment of silence. Romano didn't want his brother out of the house at all, he would rather his brother stay at his home. The Northern Italian had only said this because he was worried someone might discover Italy if they wasted any more time. With a cracked smile, North Italy turned his gaze to his brother.

"Okay."

~xXx~

Ludwig squinted in the light of the sinking sun as he was led into the closed courtyard of the prison. Guards stood on either side of him, their expressions unreadable.

In the center of the large yard, there stood a tall platform. Attached to this platform was a sturdy post from which hung a rope, which was tied in a loop at the end. Germany eyed this rope, and then turned towards the sky. The sun continued to slowly fall over the horizon. He was to be executed at sunset. He deserved it though, right? He was a murderer. He tortured thousands and murdered thousands more; along with Italy, the only person he'd ever truly loved. And yet the reason for his execution was betrayal. Yet, who had he truly betrayed? His country, or the one he loved?

~xXx~

Italy turned to his brother, who was holding a shovel to his chest, ready to begin digging the fake grave as soon as Feliciano left. Romano stared at Italy with downcast eyes. The October air wafted through the trees. It was the first day of the month.

"Don't worry about me, Romano." Feli whispered in the silent night, looking at his brother with concern. "I can fend for myself. I've learned not to depend on anyone anymore. I'll be fine, I promise."

"You'd better be," Lovino grumbled. "I'll make sure not to tell anyone about you going into hiding. Not a single person other than us will know about this."

"You won't even tell Spain?"  
"The last person I'd want to tell is that bastard Spain. Seriously, all he does is gossip, gossip, gossip."

"Thank you, Romano." Italy smiled sadly. Romano held out his hand for his brother to shake. The younger man grabbed hold of it, but pulled his sibling into a hug before turning and dashing down the porch and into the woods as fast as he could.

~xXx~

Ludwig knew of Italy's death, and all he wanted to do was end his sorry, worthless life. The sun continued to drift down towards the horizon line, and in Germany's mind, it couldn't sink faster.

When someone you care about more than anything in the world dies, aren't you supposed to feel something? A tug at your heart? The feeling that you need to cry? The sound of your world crashing around you? And yet, Ludwig felt none of these things, none of these heart-breaking reactions came to him, just the feeling that he wanted the world to end. He stared at the ground as a stray thought entered his mind.

He's alive.

Nein, that wasn't true. Romano had claimed Italy was dead. Then again, perhaps Romano had been lying, he was Romano, after all. Maybe Feliciano was still alive. No, that wasn't possible, was it?

~xXx~

The sun continued to set. Italy watched it from his position under the trees. He was panting from how far he'd run. It wasn't a very long ways, as he could still make out the small dot that was Lovino's house, but he couldn't run as much as he had once been able too. His legs felt like jelly, and he hadn't even run a mile.

"I have to keep going," Feli whispered to himself, gasping for air. "They'll find me, they'll find me, they'll find me... I've got to go. I can't let anyone find me... I don't want to go back to that... place. Please, please, don't let me go back..."

Looking up into the sky, Italy thought about Germany for a moment. He wondered if his German friend was okay.

"I hope wherever he is, he's happy," Italy panted. "I just don't want him to find me. Please, don't let him find me..."

Feliciano took one last breath before he dashed away again. The sun sank even lower into the sky, until it was finally sunset.

~xXx~

Germany stood before the platform where he was to be hung. There was a man on the platform, reading a list that named all of the terrible things Ludwig had done to his country.

He'd known for a long time that countries could die. It was hard to kill them off, but they could die. Holy Rome had died, the Roman Empire had died. It didn't matter whether or not the personification lived. They were just representatives... or something like that. But, there must be a way for other countries to tell that their friends had died. Italy couldn't be dead... surely Germany, the man who loved him, would have known!

Ludwig grunted as the guards pushed him onto the platform, and two men began to open the noose to put Germany's head through.

He's alive, Ludwig thought desperately. Right? He has to be. He has to be. Mein Gott, there's no way someone as perfect as Italy can die!

Germany was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of something covering his head. The 'thing' resembled a potato sack, and the executioners were fitting it over his face. Germany clenched his fists. They were still handcuffed together.

Italy must be alive. And if he is, I need to find him... ja? Germany thought. There was a ruffling noise as the noose began to be fitted around his head.

Maybe... it's too late, Ludwig whispered. Maybe I'll never see him again.

* * *

**A/N: DAFUQ.**  
**A/N2: * evil grin ***  
**A/N: What is with you and your love of cliffhangers?**  
**A/N2: It has to do with my incredible brilliance.**  
**A/N: …. I see. Oh teach me great master of writing stories, I want to learn the art of the trade.**  
**A/N2: And, for the purpose of this story, I even gave a totally random and highly unlikely reason for countries to die!**  
**A/N: Ah, that's go- Wait, WHAT.**  
**A/N2: LETTUCE BEGIN CHAPTER 9, JA?**  
**A/N: OHONHONHON, LET'S!**


	9. Chapter 9

*** THE BELOW MESSAGE IS A JOKE. PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY. THELITTLESTAUTHOR WAS NOT ACTUALLY CRYING ON HER BIRTHDAY; SHE BE LOVIN' YOUR REVIEWS.***

**A/N2: *Hiding under a blanket, whimpering***  
**A/N: What's wrong?**  
**A/N2: T-today's my birthday...**  
**A/N: Isn't that a good thing?**  
**A/N2: Everyone HATES ME. *sobs***  
**A/N: Well, serves you right. I mean, you did piss them off with an epic cliffhang-**  
**A/N2: No, THEY HATE ME!**  
**A/N: Okay, now you're just being dramatic. None of them are even-**  
**A/N2: *sniffle* I got threatened.**  
**A/N: By who? *checks reviews* I don't see any threats... Except for that one... but they don't mean it. Listen, how about instead of hiding under a blanket and crying your eyes out on your birthday, you gives these nice people a present and write the chapter.**  
**A/N2: What if I make them mad? Then they won't like me.**  
**A/N: What are you, six? Help me write this damn story!**  
**A/N2: Okay... Don't worry people! Imma make you guys HAPPY!**  
**A/N: You're such an idiot, TheLittlestAuthor...**

***No, we're just kidding. Your comments make us laugh so hard! Thanks, you guys, and happy birthday to TheLittlestAuthor***

* * *

Italy watched as the sun sank below the trees, shrouding the world in a dark shadow. He sighed. Usually the man was somewhat afraid of the dark, but his past had given him more to be scared of. At this moment, Italy almost felt comforted by the night, as it seemed to be his only friend, now. Italy sighed and slowly rose to his feet. He knew that he had to get moving, otherwise, someone might find him.

~xXx~

The Aryan panted, staring at the damage he had caused. Surrounding him were the crumpled, unconscious bodies of several guards, along with the executioner. He had gone into a rage, that's all he knew. A rage at Romano (it couldn't be true!), a rage at the guards and executioner for attempting to kill him, a rage at the Nazis and his entire society for keeping him and Italy apart, a rage at himself for... potentially killing Italy.

"Italy..." he muttered before turning and racing through the tall doors of the execution grounds. He ran down empty halls, quietly trying to avoid the guards that were on duty. He came across a group of heavily armed soldiers barring his path. He easily took them down. Germany was a country after all. Earlier he had forgotten his strength, but now he remembered. He could take down an entire platoon of men with his fists. Getting shot would of course injure him, maybe even kill him, but he knew he had strength. He could find the Italian. No, he had to find the Italian.

~xXx~

Italy kept running down the hill, away from his brother's home. He had to stop running after about ten minutes, as he was still too weak. Running was one of hardest things for him to do in this state. Italy exhaled loudly and landed on the ground with a small thud. He looked around.

"I haven't run far enough at all," he gasped out. "The barn isn't anywhere in sight; at this rate it's probably still a day's run away. I'm so useless, now..."

He knew he needed to sleep, though. He was worried that with his fragile body and frail immune system he could get sick and die at any moment. He contemplated sleeping on the ground where he lay, but quickly realized that was probably the most dangerous thing he could try to do. Instead, he mustered up the last of his strength to crawl into a tree to sleep for the night.

~xXx~

Germany knew not to return to his own home. That was the first place the guards would look upon their awakening. That's why he had decided to sleep under a bridge across a shallow creek in his town. The next day he vowed to go back to Romano's house to see if what he had said was really true. However, it would take at least a week to get there on foot. Ludwig knew there was no way he would be able to get a ride with anyone; he was a criminal. He had betrayed Germany... and he was Germany!

~xXx~

Ludwig marched up the path towards Romano's house. The wind whirled around the little household, almost warning him to leave. He had spent all week trying to get here. It was now the 13th of October. The cottage was up on a hill on the outskirts of Germany. Romano usually would have never agreed to move here, if it weren't for the fact that his brother was living there under Nazi rule.

Ludwig stepped up onto the porch, waiting a moment to take a deep breath before he knocked on the door. There was cursing on the other side before the door was forcefully ripped open. South Italy stood on the other side of the doorway, his expression a mixture of hatred, horror, and confusion.

"What the hell. Get off my fucking porch, you asshole! Run away, and don't ever come back. The sight of you makes me sick, you bastard!" Lovino yelled at the German. He looked furious. Romano backed up and tried to slam the door on Ludwig, but the Aryan caught his foot in the door, stopping it from shutting.

"Where is he?" Germany muttered, his voice soft. He didn't really want to hear the answer. "Where is... Where is Italy?"

"Why? You want him so that you can send him back to hell? So you can starve him? Shoot him? Torture him? Change him? Get out of here, you potato-eating bastard... I never want to see your face again, not after that... that... that SHIT you did to my brother!"

Ludwig looked down. Romano had a valid point, but Germany felt that he had to see Italy, no matter what.

"Where is he, though?"

"Dead. I told you that already. He's buried in the backyard, you can go check it out to be sure... or maybe not. You only want to dance on it, right? Dance on his grave? He's another prize for you, si? You killed another Jew, you stupid fucking asshole, good for you! Whoop-dee-doo! Now that I'm the personification of all of Italy, I don't have to talk to my brother about this decision. Germany, I am declaring war on you," Romano scoffed yet again, trying to close the door on Germany. He slammed it shut so fast and so hard that Germany grunted in pain and pulled out from the door. He ran around back, where there was a small patch of dirt with a small stone headstone before it, made of nothing more than a rock found in the river.

Mio fratello Veneziano. Perso nella morsa della guerra. Tu non meritava questo. Ci mancherai.

Germany pulled his hand across the stone, slowly reading the Italian scrawled across it in black ink. He struggled to comprehend it based on the limited Italian he knew. Mio fratello... that meant 'my brother'... guerra meant war... ci mancherai meant "we will miss you"... then he began to put everything together.

My brother Veneziano. Lost in the grip of war. You didn't deserve this. We'll miss you.

Germany gripped the dirt below him, clutching it in his fists as he read the message. This was Italy's grave. The German's breath hitched as he realized this, slowly beginning to understand that Italy was gone.

"No!" he yelled. "No! This isn't... No!"

Ludwig stood up, tears MANRY TEARS welling up in his eyes. He felt like crying... but he was a soldier. A fighter. He can't cry.

"Gone... he's gone..."

There really was no point in living past the war now. If he did, what would come out of it? Loneliness. But, then again... he needed to live on. He needed to tell the future the hell that could come from war. The loved ones lost. The hatred and violence.

He was going to be followed. The guards would come looking for him, and this would where they would go after searching his house. He needed to hide. Turning to the forest, he began to run. This would be a good enough place to hide, right?

~xXx~

As night fell, Germany noticed smoke rising from the trees. A fire was a few miles away. Maybe it was that of someone who could help him. It might be someone to kill him, but at this point he wasn't quite thinking straight. He hurried off in that direction, his heart still heavy from the news from before. He raced through the trees, covering the miles between him and supposed salvation quickly. Finally, he came upon the fire. With a tired sigh he peaked through the bushes surrounding the fire.

Unable to believe his eyes, the German burst through the bushes and stood opposite to the person he had seen. The fire flickered between the two, silence overwhelming them both, until Germany finally whispered something.

"Italy."

* * *

**A/N2: DO THEY LIKE?**  
**A/N: You suck at Italian.**  
**A/N 2: I know...**  
**A/N: Well, you know what else, TheLittlestAuthor? You know what they'd do if they liked this chapter?**  
**A/N2: Alert, Favorite, and Review?**  
**A/N: No. They'd send us virtual hugs and cookies.**  
**A/N2: Oh. But reviews are good too, right?**  
**A/N: YES!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Okay, first and foremost, we offer you guys an apology.**  
**A/N2: When we write this story, we write it on a google doc so that we can write together. I tend to be in charge of the writing while Suzie does most of the proof-reading and editing.**  
**A/N: When we write on this document, we tend to go CRAZY. You won't believe how hard it is to write a serious story. That's why I have to spend so much time going back and editing. But, last chapter, I let a little something slip.**  
**A/N2: Halfway through last chapter, Germany cried. And we... Um... Well, I wrote 'MANLY TEARS' beside it.**  
**A/N: And, out of my love for Japan, I changed it to MANRY TEARS.**  
**A/N2: Sorry 'bout that... for ruining the moment and all...**  
**A/N: Yeah.. Maybe sometime we'll make a story with all of our little outtakes in it.**  
**A/N2: Yeah, maybe, if you guys would like that~! Until then, I hope you enjoy this next chapter!**

* * *

The Italian stared at Germany with wide eyes. There was a moment of silence between the two. Germany stood on the opposite side of the campfire, his face one of utter shock. Italy was dead, but now he was alive? It had to be true- he was really alive. I mean, he was sitting on the other side of the fire, staring back at Ludwig!

Italy let out a small squeaking noise and crawled away from the fire quickly. He still had his eyes locked on Ludwig's, meeting Germany's relieved blue ones with his own horrified, terrified brown continued to stare at Germany for a moment before jolting up and stumbling into the forest.

"I-Italy!" Germany called out to his once-ally. This wasn't how things were supposed to go, they were supposed to share a loving embrace or something, and put the past behind them, like in all the novels Germany had read.

But this wasn't a story. This was real.

Germany cleared his head of those thoughts and began running after Italy.

Usually, Feliciano was quite the runner. He spent a majority of his time fleeing wars, fights, and training, so naturally he tended to be a quick little thing. That being said, Germany was shocked by how slow the Italian was running. Not only that, but he was desperately gasping for air like this was the fastest he'd run in his life. On most days, Ludwig would never have been able to catch him, but this was different. Today, catching up with Italy was easy.

Veneziano turned around and gasped at the sight of Ludwig. He fell backwards, landing on the forest floor with a thud. Germany leaned down to help the man up, but the brunette began to sob and continued to move away, but now crawling on the ground.

"No!" he cried, sliding away from the Aryan. "No, please, don't send me back! Don't send me back there! There was so much... blood... and the babies... and that smell that came from the chimneys whenever they were burning the bodies..."

A fog fell over Italy's eyes. He had backed up against a tree, and was staring into the distance, beyond the trees, at the vast expanse of stars. Germany looked down at the shorter man, a solemn look crossing his face.

Germany leaned down to take the Italian's hand, but Feliciano pulled away quickly, being yanked back to reality by the touch of the man who had killed so many. He backed up against the tree some more, flinching as the wood dug into his back, which was already littered with cuts and bruises from Auschwitz. He was acting so strange. Usually, Italy would have clung on to Ludwig and sobbed about how much he had missed the Aryan.

"I.. I'm so sorry," Germany said, stepping away from Veneziano. Italy wasn't the same, and could never be the same, and that was all his fault. Feliciano's face was blank as the words processed in his mind.

"You... you killed little kids, mothers, the elderly, and the sick, the pregnant, babies... Starved thousands to death, shot so many.. marched hundreds to their deaths... I nearly died countless times. I don't know whether to be glad I survived or upset. I have to live with the memory of you killing my people, my friends, and innocent civilians for the rest of my life. And you think you can fix all of that by saying you're sorry?" Italy replied quietly. He stood up. Though he was still shorter than Ludwig, his words made him seem so much bigger. Germany looked down to his once-ally.

"Italy," he murmured, "I promise, you, I will never hurt you again. Please come with me. can't leave you behind. I would spend every day worried about you. So please," the Aryan got to his feet, extending an arm to his the brunette haired man, "Come with me."

Feliciano's face stayed stony as he answered Germany's request with a barely-audible, "I don't believe you."

* * *

**A/N: Hehe. CLIFFHANGER~! YESH.**  
**A/N 2: Sorry for being so late with this chapter, our summer vacation started, and we both are on vacation right now!**  
**A/N: We might not post as often as we have because of that whole summer break thing...**  
**A/N2: Haha, these Author's notes ruin the mood every single time...!**  
**A/N: Well, at least we won't have as many crying people, should this story be sad enough for tears..**  
**A/N2: I doubt it. But if it is, we offer hugs to those who ask.**  
**A/N: I don't. Anyways, please review, favorite, alert, that whole SHABANG.**  
**A/N2: Yeah, that whole SHAZAM!**  
**A/N: Shabang.**  
**A/N2: That's what I said.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: *spins around in a spinny chair, stroking webkinz cat* Hello, we've been expecting you.**  
**A/N2: It seems we have. :3**  
**A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews and favourites for last chapter, seriously, do you know how awesome it feels when you open your email an hour after posting a chapter and you have like, twenty emails?**  
**A/N2: Do YOU know how it feels to open your email 20 minutes later with 40 emails, that are all reviews and favourites?**  
**A/N: …no...**  
**A/N2: Oh. Well, neither do I, I was hoping you could explain it to me. *shrug***  
**A/N: Maybe some other time... Thank you for all of the support, and let's continue the story~!**  
**A/N2: Ah, yes, and we recommend listening to the HetaOni song "Even if you feel sad" while reading this. It really sets the whole, 'depressed-angsty-GerIta-with-a-facebook-status-of-it's-complicated' feel, you know?**  
**A/N: And it makes this incredibly short and disappointing chapter seem well worth the time spent reading it!**  
**A/N2: Yeah, so enjoy!**

* * *

Italy added another log to the fire, trying his best to fan the smoke away with his hand. The short man sat back down quickly, staring through the the orange flames to the German on the other side.

He didn't trust those blue eyes any more. He could still remember the times when he would have followed the Aryan's demands without question. He didn't believe that Germany loved him. He couldn't. Italy knew that, but as much as he wanted to hide it, he still loved Germany. But... he couldn't fall for that man's tricks again.

"It's getting late," Ludwig sighed, still sore from his rejection earlier. "You should get some sleep, I'll keep watch."

"No," Italy refused flatly. "I'm not sleeping with you around. You'll probably haul me away while I'm asleep, and I'll go back... They'll send me back... there."

Ludwig looked into Italy's eyes. They looked so distant, as if they were somewhere else. The camp had changed him. He wasn't the same, physically or mentally.

"You're right," Germany stated, his voice that of realization. "You're right. I'm... I'm horrible. What have I done? I ruined our friendship, I've ruined the lives of millions, all because I wanted to gain power. I was selfish, and now... I'm a monster! I don't deserve to live, I am a war criminal, they were right..."

"Who was right?" Italy questioned, looking at Ludwig, who was standing up now and walking away. "Germany? Where are you going?"

"Back. I'm going back. They'll put me on death row again, and I won't cause you any more pain."

"Back? Back where? Again? What do you mean 'again'? Death row? Again? G-Germany stop! You aren't making sense!" Italy cried, following Ludwig as he walked through the forest. He didn't trust this man at all, but he loved him. He loved him and the last thing he wanted was for Germany to get hurt let alone be killed.

"Back to the police, where they'll put me on death row, like they did when I saved you from the Death March and took you to Romano's."

"You... did? You were on death row? Because of me?"

"I told you, Italy. I'm so sorry that I hurt you. I never, ever meant to hurt you so bad. I don't deserve life- I don't want life, if it means I'll just keep hurting you."

"Stop, Germany!" Italy yelled, tears spilling down his cheeks as he raced in front of the German. "I don't trust you! I don't know if I can ever trust you again! You hurt me so bad, and you killed lots and lots of people, and it'll take me a long time to forgive you for that, b-but," Italy continued, sobbing, "I don't want Germany to die! I still love you, because I know that this isn't you, and that the real you is hidden by this whole war! Don't die, please don't go and die, please!"

Ludwig stopped as Italy wrapped his arms around the blonde's torso. He buried his head in Germany's chest, sobbing profusely. The Aryan looked down at the shorter male. How could he say those things? Germany had realized just how much pain he had caused to everyone, and how much he deserved to die. And yet, through all that pain, suffering, and hatred he had caused... He was still loved by someone?

"You're scary, Germany," Italy sniffled, "when you let war take over your life. I know you're not the Germany I used to know. You're too cold. I know that... even though you're like this now... you can change. You can... be yourself again. I want my Germany back. I can't forgive him yet, but I still want him... I still love him."

Germany was shocked. Though he couldn't be trusted or forgiven, he was still loved. How was that possible? How... could Italy still love him?

Ludwig hugged the Italian tightly. "Thank you..." he whispered, "Thank you... Thank you..."

* * *

**A/N2: Angst is fun to write!**  
**A/N: It is!**  
**A/N2: Anyways, as much as you prayed and hoped we were done with this story...**  
**A/N: SORRY! We're not!**  
**A/N2: Yup! We still have some relationship building fluff to get through, not to mention an EPILOOOOGUE!**  
**A/N: YAY! In the mean time, why don't you review/favourite/alert?**  
**A/N2: Yup! It's right below us. Right there. Come on.**  
**A/N: Click it.**  
**A/N2: Click it.**  
**A/N: Clickitclickitclickit.**  
**A/N2: *Grabs Russia from nearby* NEED I USE THIS?**  
**Russia: *smiles***


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: After a long waiting, here is chapter 12!**

* * *

The Italian pulled away from Germany, confused by the sudden affection.

Shock flashed across Germany's He pulled back his arm slightly, offended and hurt by the shorter man's response to his full-hearted statement.

Italy noticed this reaction the Aryan had to his words. Italy felt a pinching feeling in his heart, and squeezed his eyes shut in thought. How could he possibly feel bad for the man who tortured many and nearly _killed_ him? He opened his eyes again, not willing to show weakness to the man looking down at him so longingly.

"Please," Germany pleaded, "please come with me. I promise I will never do anything to hurt you again. I'm so sorry. I was so stupid for doing that to you. Please forgive me. Please." Italy saw a facial expression he had never seen on Germany before- there were tears welling up in his eyes.

"But, how could I ever trust you again, after all the things you did to me?" Italy murmured again.

"Could you please just trust me? I'm the same Germany that you used to love. Please." Germany replied.

"Germany. I love you, but you are just too out of character for me. I'm sorry." Italy said, looking down at his feet.

"Italy, I love you. I also have to tell you something. I'm pregnant, with your baby." Germany cried.

"B-but, how? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Italy said, stepping toward the Aryan.

"I-I just never found a good time to tell you! I'm sorry!" Germany yelled, the hormones from the pregnancy getting to him. "Don't leave me! How would I explain to the baby that Italy left me alone during my pregnancy?!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know! I can't handle it now! You nearly killed me in the camps and you killed so many other children and mothers, how could you live with yourself knowing that you, yourself, were pregnant too?!" The brunette haired man yelled, shaking the blonde's shoulders.

"I'm sorry! The fucking hormones got to me Italy, I was angry, that's why I almost killed you! I was frustrated that I had gotten pregnant." Germany replied, raising his voice ever more.

"Then why didn't you tell me?!" Italy yelled louder than Germany, "I could have helped you through this! You didn't have to go through this all alone, I could've been THERE for you!" Italy bitch-slapped Germany across the face.

"Woah. Woah. WOAH. Chill, dudes, seriously." America said, while sliding in between the fighting soon-to-be parents.

"He hit me~." Germany cried with tears falling down his cheeks, the hormones making him bipolar.

"I did not." Italy huffed, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Well, the Hero is here to save the day, one couple at a time~!" America sang, doing a 'heroic' pose which involved having his left hand on his hip, and his right arm raised, pointing at the sky.

"We are not a couple, he almost KILLED me." Italy said, even more infuriated.

"I told you, it was the fucking hormones!" Germany screamed, the darker side of his bipolar-ness showing yet again.

"Dude, who knew pregnant people could be so destructive? Awesome!" America said in his normal loud voice, high-fiving Germany.

"Who's side are you on?!" Italy screamed throwing his arms up in his anger.

"Don't fear, the awesome me is on your side, poor unawesome Italian who ironically got Germany pregnant~!" Prussia sang opera style, entering the area with jazz hands.

"Ve~! Thank you. Someone finally realizes the rationality of my side of this argument." Italy said, hugging Prussia with his thankfulness.

"I know. I know. The awesome me made an awesome judgment." Prussia said, moving his arms as if to hush a roaring crowd.

"Okay, seriously? Am I the only sane one in these woods?" Austria sighed, walking to the small crowd that was forming with Hungary by his side. "Here, can I add some of my knowledge to this argument?"

"Sure, what have we got to lose?" Italy said to his former caretaker, obviously calmed by him.

"Okay. Prussia and America, just stay out of it, maybe go to McDonalds or something right now." Austria started.

"But, I don't know if that greasy American food is awesome enough for me..." Prussia interrupted, whining. Alfred yanked him by the arm, because it had been nearly twenty minutes since he had a hamburger which is DEADLY.

"Okay. As I was going to say," Austria rolled his eyes, "Germany, you are definitely not pregnant. I know that. Italy here is to... uke... to do that. We all know that. Even Italy."

"B-but." Germany started before hanging his head at his stupidity.

"Ve~! What is uke Austria?" Italy said with two innocent, big eyes shining.

"Heh. I can show you later, that is, if you come with me like I asked, like a chapter ago." Germany said with a smirk on his face.

"Ve~! I wanna know, but as I said, I don't trust you Germany." Italy said, looking him straight in the eyes, his face stony once again.

"Okay, this is where I come in," Austria started, "Italy, you love Germany, right?"

"Ve, well, I do, but I don't know whether he will hurt me again or not." Italy said, a sad look on his face.

"But, Italy, I love you. I'm sorry." Germany said a passionate look in his fiery blue eyes. Germany got on his knees and lent a hand to Italy, hoping he would take it.

"Italy, does it look like he means it? Does it look like he wants to hurt you?" Dr. Phil Austria said, turning to Italy again.

"He looks like he means it, but he hurt me before..." Italy said, "I don't want to see his scary angry face ever again."

"I promise, Italy. I will NEVER let you see me angry again, especially toward you. Please, just please forgive me. I love you so much, and I would never forgive myself if I knew I would never see you again." the Aryan said, desperate for Italy's forgiveness.

"I-I I forgive you, Germany-san." Italy said.

"Pardon me?" Ludwig said.

"Become one with Russia, da?" Russia said, embracing Germany in a tight hug.

"Germany-san, I forgive you for hurting me. I wirr go with you." Italy said, a small smile appearing on his face.

"You sound strangely like Japan. Are you okay?" Germany said, highly suspicious of the man in front of him.

"Ah, so you finarry figured out, Germany-san?" Japan said, taking off his Italy wig and combing through his hair with his fingers.

"Why were y- why does it smell of pasta?" Ludwig asked, highly confused.

"I don't know, why don't you ask Engrand-san or Russia-san?" Japan said, with England and Russia rising from the ground on either side of him.

"W-what's happening?!" Germany asked, backing up, away from the five people in front of him.

"GAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHH~!" Germany screamed at the top of his lungs, and he shot up from his bed.

"VE~! Germany, what's the matter?" Italy bursted into the bedroom with a concerned look on his face.

"Italy, you're not hurt? Mein Gott! It was all a dream?" Germany said, rushing toward his ally.

"Ve, what Germany? Why would I not be alive?" Italy said with a confused look creeping onto his face.

"Ah, nevermind." Germany sighed, before kissing Italy on the cheek tenderly.

"What's wrong with Germany?!" Italy asked, a blush on his cheeks.

"Ah, nothing, nothing at all." Germany said, with a dreamy look in his eyes.

"Well, honestly, you're freaking me out. Ve, let's hope a bowl of my famous pasta will help get you back to normal!" Italy said, producing a bowl of pasta from behind his back.

"Ah. That's why it smelled of pasta." Germany murmured in realization.

"Eh? Anyways, I'll go downstairs and clean up the kitchen. Remember, you have work today, Germany." Feliciano reminded Ludwig.

"Actually," Germany said, stopping Italy by the shoulder, "I think I will take a day off, let's go somewhere fun, my treat."

"Ve~! Really? That will be so much fun~!" Italy sang, "We could go to Disneyland, then we could go to the Golden Gate Bridge in America, then we could go to Kyoto to visit Japan, and we could-" Italy started rambling on before getting kissed by Germany on his forehead.

"It's okay, we'll just go with the flow." Germany suggested, leading the shorter out of the house to his car.

"Ve~! Should I drive?" Italy said, hoping to drive.

"No! I mean, no, I think I can drive, don't trouble yourself." Germany said quickly.

"Okay, if you want to~!" Italy said, getting over to the passenger seat of the car. Germany was close behind, and he got into the driver's side.

"Italy, Ich liebe dich." Germany said quietly to his companion.

"What does that mean?" Italy asked, wide-eyed. Ah, this was deja-vu for Ludwig.

* * *

**(Past) A/N: And then they kissed. I mean, kiss-kissed. Like, they made-out. A lot. And then the author got lazy. So, this is the end, Kelsey. I just wanted to show you what I'm made of, dude. I hope you liked it. So, favourite, alert, whatever, give me some cookies, man. No, not virtual cookies, like real REAL cookies. **

**(Current) A/N: Ah, hi guys. ^^; Sorry we have been gone for so long. We have been so busy recently. So, here, please do take something I wrote ENTIRELY BY MYSELF almost a year ago. I am so sorry for this. ((It was only half my idea to post this)). We have been reading all of your reviews, don't think we aren't listening! Anyway, ANYWAY both of us plan to get the REAL chapter 11 out this weekend, so please do watch for that. Please don't hate us, we want to update more often and we plan to! Have a fabulous day/night/afternoon/lunch/april fools day. Good bye for now!**


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